The Miseducation of Jane Penderwick
by Pseudonymperson
Summary: Jane goes on a road trip. (There are so many things that could go wrong.)
1. Pressure

Jane isn't having an existential crisis. She isn't.

It's just that she feels off, like someone tore a hole through her chest and replaced her heart with lead and her feelings with moths, all weighted wings and desperate actions. And she can't wake Skye up in the middle of the night to talk about anything to break the silence anymore, because it's July, and Skye's already packed her bags and left for college.

She calls Skye instead, because she's supposed to be the logical one who tells her that feelings are overrated.

That isn't exactly what she gets.

* * *

"This is supposed to be the Great American Road Trip, right? The one that every teenage girl dreams of having?"

"Jane, you're overthinking this."

"_You're_ telling _me_ that?"

There's a mechanical sounding "Exterminate!" somewhere in the background, and Skye sighs.

"I'm not the best person you could go to for advice."

"Are you watching Doctor Who?"

"Maybe. Look, you don't really have to do that much. You know, take some friends, maybe a boyfriend or two?"

"Or two?"

"Things get complicated."

"You really have changed." Jane marvels, and she swears that she can hear Skye roll her eyes on the other end of the line.

"Tell that to the universe."


	2. Jane

Jane leaves with a backpack full of clothes and journals. Either way, there's probably too much floral print in it to be legal.

* * *

It's interesting how quickly Jane meets people-  
by way of 'people', she means a car full of other teenagers that don't mind an extra passenger. They're loud, doused in sweat and cigarette smoke, and really enthusiastic about where they put their hands.  
To put it politely, they are not a good fit.

They stop by a bar before she leaves them, and she gets out of the car with a slight expression of unease.

"Um, I'm not 21 yet, so I'm just going to-"

"Oh, you're fine. We can get you in."

"I really shouldn't."

"You shouldn't stay here, either." the girl says, gesturing at the car next to them. The windows are smashed in, and empty bottles litter the asphalt of the parking lot.

"Oh."  
She follows the girl into the bar.

* * *

It turns out that the girl's name is Sophie. She's five months older than Jane, and her eyes are really, _really_ blue.

"Hey, you're good at writing, right?" Sophie asks with an eager kind of awkwardness, as they watch everyone else get mind-blowingly, stupidly drunk.

Jane hums noncommittally.

"What makes you think that?"

"I saw you writing in your journal earlier."

"I could be a really bad writer."

"That's true."

Jane half-smiles to herself.

"I'm insulted."

Sophie laughs.


	3. Adaaaaaahm

She's carrying her backpack out of the car, Sophie's number scrawled on her hand in black ink.

He's there, watching, and something about mythology and collarbones flickers through her mind before she dismisses it.

"Do you need any help?" he asks.

"Yeah, I-" she pauses.

"No," she says. "I'm fine."

"I mean, on account of the whole 'don't talk to strangers' thing that I've got going on." she mumbles.

He laughs, teeth glinting in the dim light.

"I'm Adam."

"Jane." she replies, almost breathlessly.

_Get it together, Jane. Remember Dominic._

"Pleased to meet you."

"Indubitably."


	4. Curiously

For some reason, it's pretty obvious to everyone besides Jane that this isn't going to end well.

Skye doesn't seem all that surprised, and warns her against strange boys with messy hair and crooked smiles.

"Remember, go for the eyes. I swear, if he turns out to be like Dominic-"

Mr. Penderwick makes Jane promise to call him every other day, and Iantha asks her to stay safe.

Rosy's the most worried out of all of them.

* * *

"God, you're no fun." Adam complains.

Jane shrugs. "I'm fulfilling a stereotype, I guess. Darkly brooding poet."

"So you want to know if we're close to a phone booth? Where we are in the vast, expansive cosmos?" he asks, adopting something close to a Russian accent.

"I don't know."  
"Then figure it out."  
He starts to head back to the truck, calling over his shoulder, "If you're not back in ten minutes, I'm leaving without you."  
"Shit." Jane whispers, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

* * *

"I'll be fine."

"Your face is as a book, where men may read strange matters."

"Hamlet?"

"Macbeth. Promise you'll be careful?"

"I'm not eleven anymore, Rosy."

She hangs up.


	5. Reckless

That night, Jane doesn't sleep well.

* * *

_Because he is Icarus and no matter how high he flies, he is doomed to crash and burn._

_He will burn, yes, but he will burn beautifully._

_He will burn so beautifully that he will put the **sun** to shame._

_If they were to hold hands, they wouldn't last. Because her hand would hold the universe, and his would only hold hers._

_Bruises coupled with teeth and the shadows of half-whispered words. She feels like she's drowning, until the wave hits and the tide rolls in from the shore, crashing high over the ground._

_Too high._

* * *

She wakes with a start, and can't look Adam in the eye for the rest of the day.


	6. Häagen-Dazs

They stop to get ice cream along the way to somewhere, and it's so unbearably cliché that Jane doesn't know what to do with herself besides try to control the rush in her stomach and smile politely at the girl behind the counter.  
"Mint chocolate chip."  
"Strawberry, please."  
When it's over, Adam looks over at Jane and chuckles (Jane didn't know that people actually did that in real life).  
"Hello."  
"Hi."

* * *

When Adam leans over and kisses her, it's about eighty percent less magical than Jane though it would be.

"Oh." Jane mumbles.  
"Okay?"  
Jane lies.  
"Yeah."  
It's not a goodbye yet, but close.  
"I really do like you, you know."  
"I know."  
They don't speak again until after sunset.


	7. From

"I don't understand anything that's going on." Jane says, finally.  
"Neither do I." he responds, then pauses.  
"Life, probably."  
He shakes hands with her, and far as goodbyes go, it's not a bad one.  
He drops her off in front of her house.

Jane stops in front of the door, fumbles momentarily with the keys, and finally opens it, hands unsure.  
She steels her nerves-  
_breathe, Jane-_  
and calls out into the waiting expanse of space,  
"I'm home!"


End file.
